The Secrets in Medlock
by TheSilenceListens
Summary: Alternate Universe A snowstorm strands Buffy out in the middle of nowhere with no way back to civilization. Luckily a mysterious man named William is near to offer her shelter at his large estate, where he lives alone, while she waits out the storm.


**AN://** My very first Buffy the Vampire Slayer fan fiction! There is a lot of description and no dialogue in this chapter, but I promise that there will be dialogue in the next...but there will only be a next if people like this one and want more. So, if you like it I believe it is in your best interest to review :D Yes, I am...bribing you, if that is the right word...?

**Summary: **(Alternate Universe) A snowstorm strands Buffy Summers out in the middle of nowhere with no way back to civilization. Luckily a mysterious man named William Pratt is near to offer her shelter at his large estate, where he lives alone, while she waits out the storm. They are both lonely and out of place in the world and each hold deep secrets that if revealed to each other could bring them together and quash their loneliness.

"Nothing makes us so lonely as our secrets." - Paul Tournier

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**The Secrets in Medlock**

A _'Buffy the Vampire Slayer' _fan fiction

By **Urbana Bloodstone**

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_**Escape**_

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The rooms of Medlock are cold and dead, but at the same time they are very much alive with the sinister memories made within their walls; each room holds its own dark secret and whispers it throughout the manor to haunt the candle lit corridors.

Large flakes of snow fall from the heavy, dark clouds above and are swept away in the wind's overpowering fury. Together they create a strong and chilling force that rattles the old windows of the manor and seeps through the decaying brick to plague each room and corridor with a bitter nip. The cool breathe of the wind outside whistles through the skeleton of the manor, freezing the wood with an icy kiss.

William sits at his desk in the library, listening to the wind howling outside, and the manor creaking around him. In his opinion, the wind sounds as if it is screaming out in agony and rage, and the manor is aching with misery; much like he is on the inside. They all cry out--William, the wind, and the manor--but there is not a single person within a ten mile radius to hear them, except for themselves and each other. The long distance between Medlock and civilization is much welcomed by William, for he does not want his cries to be heard, but, instead, he wishes to be left in solitude with nothing but his imagination to wash his mind clean of all the haunting memories he is constantly reminded of by just being in Medlock.

The grand estate of Medlock has been in the Pratt family for centuries and handed down to each generation. For many years now the estate has belonged to William and has borne witness to many unpleasant moments in his life. There have been, of course, pleasant ones but they were few and far between, faded out by the bad. The manor captured these moments in time as they were created and now it plays them back to William before his very eyes, making it difficult for him to wash away with his imagination...even at this very moment.

As he sits behind his desk in the far dark corner of the library, William watches a ghostly image of himself pacing on the other side of the room.

His ghostly self, stiff with tension, moves quickly and anxiously around the room in long, heavy strides. While the rest of his body is rigid, his arms seem to be the only part of him that has a mind of their own as they fold then unfold to seek the protection of his pockets, only to retreat to his head where his fingers run uneasily through his lengthy, honey brown waves.

A strong combination of anguish and fury begin to bubble inside of William as he struggles to tare his eyes away from the memory before him. He feels anguish because of the horrible deed he had done before locking himself in the confines of his library that night, and fury because he does not wish to relive the event again as he already has too many times before.

With a loud _'thud'_that cuts through the thick silence in Medlock, William stands up and pushes his chair back into the wall with such strength that it is a surprise the wall dose not crack and give out. He breathes heavily with anger while scanning the room with a resentful sneer.

This manor has been both his prison and his sanctuary over the years, condemning him to live out his years with the constant reminder of the misery and sin of his past while at the same time acting as a safe haven which shields him from anymore pain that might be inflicted upon him by the outside world. But at this moment, as the most painful memories of his past wrap him in a chokeholdand suck out all of the hope and illusions of happiness he has left, the manor is his prison.

A primal sound, between the likes of a growl and a roar, claws its way up William's throat and rips through his lips to be amplified by the cold emptiness of the manor; soon subsiding into a rough snarl, he tosses his desk across the room as if it is a small throw pillow. As fast as his desk can hit the wall on the opposite side of the room and shatter into a million wooden shards, William is out of the library and down the far end of the corridor.

He races out into the blistering snow storm with nothing but the clothes already on his back, and within a mere ten feet outside the protection of Medlock's walls he is swallowed whole by the storms white veil. The further away he ventures the smaller the estate becomes, but William does not look back. Instead, he treads faster through the deep snow and into the thick woods that ends the long stretch of lawn behind Medlock.

Here, in the forest where everything is shrouded in darkness, William is finally out of Medlock's sight and no longer within its reach. The memories cannot touch him if he is not reminded of them. _'Out of mind, out of sight'_,as they say.

The wind howls past him and takes with it the heavy load he has been carrying on his conscience. In no matter of time at all he feels considerably lighter and so much younger. Though he has achieved his goal, he does not stop now for he wishes to relish in this moment of peace before he must return and have his clean and calm state of mind corrupted again by his daunting past.

When he finally does stop it is a very good distance away from Medlock, deep within the heart of the forest where no moonlight is visible through the thick canopy of pine branches. He closes his eyes and inhales the sweet smell of the fresh, cold snow and clean, pine air with a faint but screaming scent of something else. The smell of the snow and pine air is quickly forgotten as the overpowering and long neglected pure metallic aroma fills his nostril and lungs.


End file.
